


Chains of Your Silence

by khelgui



Category: Super Junior
Genre: Angst, Drama, Drugs, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Eventual Happy Ending, M/M, Psychological Trauma, Romance, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2015-01-26
Packaged: 2018-03-09 05:56:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3238841
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khelgui/pseuds/khelgui
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Three years ago Hyukjae's best friend, Donghae, told him he was in love with him. It wasn't normal, and he definitely wasn't gay - or feeling anything romantic toward his friend. Hyukjae felt uneasy being with him, and he eventually started to avoid him and in the end they grew completely apart during the last year of high school...</p><p>He isn't sure if it's pure coincidence - or destiny – when he suddenly meets Donghae again. When he finally recognizes him, it's unmistakable to notice that the once so cheerful and positive Donghae is now nothing like he used to be. Nothing seems to be left from the best friend he knew, yet Hyukjae couldn't leave him there even though Donghae's druggy presence scares him and he has no idea how he should cope with his obviously a drug addict ex-best friend.</p><p>Donghae has nothing with him, except his clothes...</p><p>...And a necklace that hides a memory card inside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Twenty-two years ago Donghae was born into the family, and he was just a mere week old baby with a little tuft of black hair when his mother died due to the complications from giving birth to him. So he never really got to know his mother. His family only consisted of his father – who took almost three years off from his work to take care of his new-born son – and his six years older brother, Donghwa.

Donghae’s father was one of them, one of the men who would sometimes disappear for days to the sea, and leave him and his brother home alone due to his work, but he had gotten used to it throughout the years.

Their home was a little town house in the midst of other dozens of similar to theirs, close to the harbor area where his father could easily walk to his boat in mere ten minutes. It was an old house, and if he was right, his mother’s grandfather had lived there back in the days when his mother was still a little child. So the house was old, and in need of a renovation, but Donghae had always loved it anyway.

Even if the whole house held some memories he would prefer to erase from his mind and forget forever.

When he was just a small bundle of human being, he didn’t know much about the world around him. But when he got older, things started to get clearer.

His first memories were from the time he was probably four, his brother ten, and his father had already started working again whilst the old lady from the neighbor took care of Donghae when his brother was at school. She was a nice lady, and she had an old dog called Butter. Donghae liked that orange furred dog which let him snuggle beside it when he wanted to take a nap, and Butter would always let him. He also remembered that Butter didn’t bark at anyone but to his brother when he came to pick him up from the lady who lived just two houses away from their own.

He always laughed at his brother who didn’t really like dogs, or even Butter, which Donghae liked really much and made him think if his brother was afraid of those four-legged animals. Butter was probably his best friend that time, if he had any idea what ‘best friend’ even meant then. Donghwa always cursed the dog when he thought Donghae didn’t hear. After taking Donghae – and his stuffed duck toy – he brought them home. Before three o’clock his brother would maybe give him some snacks to eat, but only if he had been a good boy.

Other thing he was able to memorize was the fact that his brother didn’t play much with him.

He usually took his toys and went to the backyard if it wasn’t too cold, and Donghwa would watch after him, but he never played with him – even if he asked him nicely. His brother mostly shrugged and took his school books and did his homework, sometimes glancing dully over the toddler just to be sure he hadn’t gone anywhere. Donghwa wasn’t one to talk much either – beside the times when he had said that it was his fault why they didn’t have a mother. It was much later when he understood what that really meant.

He was only few years older when it came clear that his brother didn’t really like him. And to mention, it wasn’t just childish play when the black haired twelve year old older brother said he didn’t mean to break his toys; or that he didn’t mean to lock him in the closet; or that he didn’t mean to forget to feed him when their father was away.

Around that time Butter disappeared from the lady, and Donghwa explained that the dog had run away because he didn’t like Donghae either. He vaguely remembered his brother saying: “Who would like a boy like you anyway?”

 

A year later he already knew his brother didn’t only dislike him; he hated him. He knew they weren’t accidents anymore when Donghwa had accidentally locked him outside the house without any winter clothes in a January day when it was well under -10 degrees. They also weren’t accidents when he didn’t come to pick him up from school; or when he pushed his head into the toilet bowl; or when he pushed him down the stairs; or when he kept kicking him when he did something his brother didn’t like.

It was just a tiny piece of all the things his brother did to him. If Donghae did something wrong, Donghwa would get mad. He would call him names, give fillips, pull his hair or slap him hard enough it hurt, but lightly enough not to leave a mark.

He also learned that it was better to smile when someone asked about the bruise on his cheek, because if he didn’t, he knew to wait for his brother to come to threaten him.

He really learned to smile brightly around that time, and it became a general gag that Donghae was just so goddamn clumsy. And he kept smiling, because everyone else was being so nice to him, and he still loved his brother despite the fact Donghwa didn’t really like him back.

Donghae was barely nine years old when Donghwa might come into his room at night, to lay beside him and whisper scary things to his ear and order him to be quiet if their father was home. He didn’t have the slightest idea what he was doing to him; the only thing he was sure about was the matter that he wasn’t able to say a thing, and that it hurt more than anything before.

A nine year old Donghae didn’t have an idea why would his brother hate him so much. He had never done anything, at least he didn’t know what he had done if he really had. And he thought that maybe his brother was just sad that they didn’t have a mother. He didn’t know much about how it felt like when you had a mother, so he didn’t know how to miss someone like that either.

His brother was fifteen when for the first time he said Donghae that he loved him. But Donghae wasn’t sure if it was true, because it hurt more than it made him feel better.

Their father didn’t suspect anything when Donghae was being all smiles when their dad was home, and even if he didn’t, Donghwa was always too smart to lie so well that no one could ever guess anything.

It didn’t get easier throughout the years though. When they got older, his brother wasn’t so often at home anymore, since he was studying in university and sometimes helped their dad at the sea. But every time Donghae was left alone with him, his brother made it even more clear how worthless he was. How there wasn’t anything good in him. That he wouldn’t do anything worse if Donghae would keep his mouth shut and keep smiling if someone asked something.

The nightmare would always get worse if he would beg him to stop. It was always easier if he just shut up and did what he was told to. That everything would be easy if he just kept smiling.

Smiling was his way to bear with the pain when it hurt the most.

 

He was fifteen; already a teenager who was able to understand those things’ real meaning. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t normal. He was scared. He was ashamed. He was too afraid to ask for help, because Donghwa’s threats were scarier than anything else in the world.

He was still smiling, being the cheerful kid he had always been despite the turmoil breaking him into million pieces.

But somehow, he found an escape route from all the terrible things that happened at home when he met Hyukjae at the first year of high school. Even if he wasn’t the most talkative boy at their class, actually, he was pretty shy and timid, but since their teacher had put Hyukjae sit next to him, it wasn’t so hard in the end for him to let him closer.

At first it was the times when Hyukjae needed a pen to borrow when he had forgotten his own, or when he wasn’t following the teaching anymore and he was out like a snowman when Donghae needed to show him were they were really going on the book; or when Hyukjae didn’t know any better the other students in their class so he ended up being paired with Donghae when they needed to do assignments or projects in teams. Donghae didn’t really have much of friends in that class anyway, when most of the guys were jocks and compared to them, Donghae was nothing just because he wasn’t very talkative, or much into sports as soccer or basketball. And since Hyukjae was originally a transfer student, he wasn’t so familiar with the other students either, so it gave them an opportunity to befriend each other – slowly, but eventually they become very good friends. That boy was actually able to make him smile without the usual need to fake it. Hyukjae was the one who kept him sane; who gave him some hope to go forward; who made him want to see the next sunrise so he could he able to see him – even when Hyukjae had no idea about the circumstances at his home.

He was someone – beside the few other friends – who genuinely showed him what living was for, and that it wasn’t all bad.

The next year Hyukjae started in the soccer team and he got friendly with the other players being the more social one of them. He brought Donghae along, and it actually helped him a bit to come over with his shyness. Little by little, he came out of his shell, and people started to like him too.

People liked him because of his kindness, when Hyukjae was liked because of his soccer skills and his social nature. He didn’t mind though, because the two years were probably the best of his whole school history. Because of those friends, he was able to forget the things that happened at home. Though that was also a time when Donghwa was busy with university, and he did come to him more rarely, giving Donghae more time to be the young, lively boy he had become.

Unfortunately, the peace only lasted to a certain extent. The first bad thing was that he fell in love with his best friend. He wasn’t sure how it had happened, but around the third year of high school, he acknowledged the whole thing. At the beginning he let it be, to let the feelings slowly grow inside him. It gave him some strength to keep up with the Donghae he had created with Hyukjae’s help; the strength to keep away the depression, the fear, the shame. The crush gave him some much needed light-headedness that kept the negative thoughts away, and he was able to keep smiling.

But he knew that in their school there was none other guy who liked other guys. At least no one knew any – and people seemed to despite people like that – people like him.

When the first semester of the last year of high school started, it wasn’t so easy anymore.

He was craving for something more, even when he knew that it would not be a good idea to confess. But day after day, it got harder to be with him like that. And of course, he had to ruin the only thing that mattered when the feeling got too much to keep inside of him anymore. The only thing he thought that would matter was the matter that he needed to get at least something off from his chest, and for him, this felt like the easiest thing to say out loud.

Still, he only told about it to Hyukjae very carefully, not exaggerating anything; only telling him the fact and not expecting anything in return. But it was a mistake that broke him even more apart. It was a mistake his brother even took advantage of. It was a mistake that cost him the only person he needed to keep on going. He had never thought that such a matter could have been so big to his friend; that he would get over the surprise eventually, when Donghae had clearly said that he didn’t need Hyukjae to like him back; that he only needed to know about that. But it wasn’t enough.

Donghae tried for a while, and at some point they still kept talking sometimes, but eventually the conversations faded away to be just simple greetings, and in the end they didn’t share a word anymore. Neither did anybody else. He was left alone. Donghae didn’t know if people knew why they were avoiding him. At least one of their mutual friends still kept tagging along with him, but she wasn’t a friend who he could have talked much either.

He missed Hyukjae. He wondered if Hyukjae ever felt alone; or if he felt lonely; or if he was ever afraid. He wasn’t sure if Hyukjae would miss him; if he would ever search for him.

Donghae had never told him, or anyone, anything about the living nightmares he had to live with. And he wasn’t sure if he ever would.

 

 


	2. 1 | Ordinary World

**01 | ORDINARY WORLD**

* * *

 

 

There is always a hint of ocean in the air of Mokpo.

If it is raining, it would be even clearer. But today, when the wind is ravaging the electric lines and the trees with the new buds waiting for the spring, it gets stronger, and you can almost taste the saltiness on your tongue when you take a deep breath. The night is cool, but distinctly warmer comparing to the air few weeks ago, giving an expectant atmosphere of the upcoming April. The city is silent, and only the screeches of the seagulls are filling the air when the birds are fighting over the leftover fishes at the harbor where the fishermen have left them after they’ve gotten back from the sea.

The scents, the noises, the tastes and the sights have always been part of Hyukjae’s life.

It’s not any different tonight when he stands outside the pub with Youngwoon, who’s smoking his cigarette, wearing a black leather jacket typical for him while they are waiting for the third party to arrive. Hyukjae has his thumbs tucked in his pockets, shoulders tense while he doesn’t have a jacket that would keep him warm in the night.

Youngwoon, a friend he has gotten to know through the gym he went to, is a strongly build man with thick eyebrows and dark eyes who definitely might look intimidating if you didn’t know him. But as he has gotten to know him better, Hyukjae knows it’s quite far from the truth. Even if he seems like a guy with a timid nature, he’s actually pretty warm inside and can be very charming towards people – with a good sense of humor. And when the man they are actually waiting for is along, his whole entity changes into a playful one – though Jungsoo is pretty much the opposite from Youngwoon judging by their looks.

Hyukjae’s body swings from side to side to keep him warmer, and he knows he has been an idiot to not bring his jacket outside with him when it seems to take this long for their friend to arrive. But he’s not the one to whine about something like that.

The man in the leather jacket blows a puff of smoke in the air when Hyukjae’s phone vibrates inside his pocket. He doesn’t notice himself holding back his own smile when he sees the message, but Youngwoon is too smart to take a note of something like that.

“Who could possibly be missing you at this time of the day...?” he mutters, acting thoughtful, but when Hyukjae glances at him, he sees his raised eyebrows and the little wiggling Youngwoon does with them.

“Shut up,” Hyukjae scowls while unlocking the device, and opens the text message without giving the man another look – because he knows what an exact expression there would be, and he’s too embarrassed to look at him because of that. It’s easy to really guess who it could even be, since he didn’t have that many friends who would have – indeed – text him at this time.

“Still not going to tell more than his name?”

“Nah,” Hyukjae mumbles as an answer, acknowledging the foolish grin playing on his plump lips while he reads the text over and over again.

“What was it even...? Jihoon, Jihyun...?” the man tries guessing. Although he was almost 100 percent sure that Youngwoon was just playing with him again.

He hastily writes an easy reply and glances over the other who stares at him knowingly.

“Jinhyuk,” he mutters with an annoying grin, “Wasn’t it?”

“What was?”

They finally hear a familiar voice, making them turn their heads towards the man who has been able to approach without them noticing.

Youngwoon turns his head closer to Jungsoo’s ears and whispers him like Hyukjae wouldn’t have been there right now. “The guy he’s been seeing. Remember, Jinhyuk, right?” the man with rougher build teases and Hyukjae rolls his eyes when Jungsoo opens his mouth wide open, implying that it would have been bigger thing than it actually is.

“Oh,” Jungsoo mouths and crosses his arms over his chest, glancing Hyukjae’s body up and down like he would examine him like a lab rat. “Aren’t you too young to date men yet, hmm?” the man with a copper colored hair teases.

Hyukjae couldn’t take it anymore, so the young man raises his hands as a sign of surrender and marches inside the pub which is the place they decided to meet at the first place.

 

He takes a sip of the dark golden drink, throwing a look towards the bar where Youngwoon is making an order for himself. He places the beer mug back on the mahogany table that feels sticky against the peripheral of his palm, pulling out his phone again when he thinks he is safe from his friends’ annoying questions and accusations.

The mere black phone gives him the tingling feeling when he sees a picture as a signal of a new message, but he doesn’t open it yet, when his eyes turn the bar’s way, noticing that Jungsoo is already walking towards the table with a glass of some transparent drink.

“7Up,” the man sighs while sitting down on the leather seat opposite to him.

“You’re driving?” Hyukjae asks while he feels the phone vibrating on his hand again, and it gets even harder to ignore it.

“Well, I don’t mind,” the man with a short hair, dyed into a color that reminds him of copper and honey, says with a soft smile.

It’s almost funny how different he’s compared to Youngwoon with his very slim figure, gentle eyes and a dimple that is very noticeable when he smiles. There’s almost something innocent in his looks, which makes him look years younger than he actually is. But Youngwoon, on the other hand, looks older than his age of 23, when Jungsoo seems to be 22 at most in contrast to his actual age of 25.

Jungsoo gives him another look; “Alcohol isn’t really my thing anyway.”

“Figured,” the youngest of them mumbles while brushing his hand through his jet black bangs that are notably longer than the rest of his hair.

Finally Youngwoon slides to sit next to Jungsoo, placing his glass of whiskey on the table with a little cup of peanuts.

“So, Hyuk,” the man starts, but takes a short break to toss almost a handful of nuts into his mouth. While he munches them, he questioningly raises his eyebrow again. “Would you mind lightening up a little bit of this Jinhyuk’s story to us too? When and where did you meet him?”

He cups his palms around the beer mug, staring at the liquid inside the glass while biting his lip when he remembers the first time meeting him at his workplace. With a sigh he consents to go to the details for his pals.

“It seems like I don’t have an option...”

“Nope,” Youngwoon mutters with a grin while half of his face is hidden behind the glass. Jungsoo only tilts his head, ready to hear some interesting details about Hyukjae’s romantic side of life.

“Well,” Hyukjae sighs, scratching his nape when he tries to find a proper way to explain the thing. His eyes are roaming upon the table again and at the moment, he feels himself getting a bit embarrassed because it’s the first time he’s really telling his two good friends about his first love interest since the last time he had a girlfriend. This time though, it’s not a girl but a man, and it still feels weird and a bit disturbing to admit that he has always been interested in guys too. This is just the first time he has actually let himself out of the closet.

“Three months ago, he happened to have a job interview at the company. But as like almost everyone else too, he was a bit lost, so he came to the info desk and asked for directions.”

He remembers the exact day being 15th of January, Tuesday, and the big clock on the wall showing 10:52AM when a guy with a clean suit stumbled in front of him, looking a bit nervous and restless.

“So I told him which floor he was supposed to go, and which way it was,” Hyukjae continued, seeing a picture of the guy with a charming smile on his mind. “He thanked me and left, but half an hour later I saw him returning when he walked out of the elevator,” he pursed his lips. “I watched him going, because well, yes, he was handsome. But he suddenly turned back towards me, and came straight to me.”

“Why?” Youngwoon inquires, furrowing his thick eyebrows.

“He came to ask if I could recommend any café nearby.” The black haired chuckles silently. “He kinda acted quite flirtatiously, smiling and looking straight into my eyes and making me stutter when he talked.”

“Wait, what? You...stuttered?” Youngwoon asks, and a howl of laughter escapes from his mouth and he almost bends over the table.

“Yah! He was really endearing...” Hyukjae mumbles, embarrassed even more. “I recommended him a café I usually go, but I didn’t expect to find him from there a week later, and ask if he could sit with me.”

“He did?”

“Yeah. I was a bit dumbfounded but how could I say no, when the café was out of free tables anyway?”

The man with a very dark brown hair had sat on the opposite chair to him with a cup of latté and a sandwich on his plate. He had had a light blue dress shirt, which definitely had stood out all the good features on his face. He was probably slightly older than Hyukjae, but not so many years actually.

“It was hard to focus on eating my breakfast when he took all my concentration. It didn’t take even five minutes until he thanked me for telling about the place, because he had already visited there twice because he had been very pleased with it. I didn’t really understand why I asked if he got the job then.”

He only remembers having slight blush over his cheeks back then, because he really haven’t thought about starting any proper conversation. The man hadn’t gotten the exact job, but the director had given him another interview for a tad different occupation.

Three days later, he had sat together with him again, eating early breakfast. Not long from there, they had introduced themselves to each other. He still remembers the shivers going along his spine when the man took his hand and shook it politely, low and husky, but somehow gentle tone telling his name at the same time.

“I didn’t really acknowledge it at first, but soon we had shared almost whole week’s breakfasts together. Two weeks later he asked my number. He got another job from another company, but he still comes to the same café at least every other, or every time he has a free morning.”

Youngwoon coughs suddenly and makes a wry face. “Ugh, too much sugar!”

“Don’t be a dick, Youngwoon,” Jungsoo scoffs and smiles softly towards Hyukjae, who has been contemplating if he should get another beer to be able to continue with this. “So, are you guys dating then?” the male who looks way younger than he is, asks curiously.

Hyukjae looks away shyly, but shakes his head. “No... Not yet. We’ve been for few dates though.”

“Have you fucked?”

“Youngwoon!” Jungsoo hisses and slaps the man’s occipital in annoyance, who only laughs.

“So, have you?”

“What did I just say you idiot?”

“N-no!” Hyukjae stammers, cheeks reddening violently. “N-not exactly...”

“Does he have a big d—“

“Youngwoon, enough!”

 

 

 

 

The part of the harbor is dead-silent when his tired body takes steps further on the asphalt alongside the platform that separates him from the dark abyss of the sea. It’s so dark, almost black with the shades of emerald green and midnight blue gleams racing against the moonlight of the night - and he doesn’t even want to imagine how cold the sea would feel against his skin.

Despite the fact that Hyukjae has always lived in a town surrounded by water, he isn’t very fond of it. He doesn’t enjoy the coldness, or the feeling that he doesn’t know what’s at the bottom of it, so he prefers to look ahead, not to the right side where the sight of the endless sea keeps haunting him. And ahead, he can see the mostly metallic storehouses; red, blue and darker colored containers and some fenced areas; some smaller boats lifted on top of the quayside, most likely in need of repair of sort; and few bigger ships and ferries floating in the water, parked to wait for the next day, or their next schedule to start.

When he feels the glacial breeze blowing against his neck, he wonders how come he even decided to walk through the whole place in the first place – even if it gives him some five minutes of shortcut from the usual twenty minutes of walk between the pub and his apartment building. It has actually been pretty long time since the last time he has gone through the area, and he wonders if it just because he’s not that fond of with the sea, or if the area just creeps him in the first place.

His body suddenly jolts in frighten when he hears a loud clattering sound coming from his left side. It’s just a distant sound, but since he doesn’t really see anyone else around, the whole goddamn scene almost terrifies him and his eyes start searching madly for the cause of the noise – until he sees a fat, orange coated cat strolling out of the shadows. He groans, almost embarrassed in his foolish fear and rolls his eyes when the feline meows towards him, its muzzle going in an annoyed wrinkle and Hyukjae finds himself chuckling at it.

“Stupid cat, go scare someone else,” he mutters while rubbing the right side of his face, both tired and mildly amused. The beer is probably still running through inside him, but he doesn’t really find himself feeling even tipsy anymore, just tired and his common sense running a bit slow.

It has clearly been a long time since the last time he has visited the place when he thinks the whole matter further, remembering the times when they sometimes came to the platforms in the summers nights a while back – usually to just hang around because one part of the place is rather isolated from people and it gave the possibility for the teenager boys to have fun and to try drinking some booze and to try smoking cigarettes when they actually weren’t allowed to do that in the first place.

He smirks to the memories that are mostly just plainly stupid, thought through by the teenager brains they had, still admitting that some of the times were actually quite fun – drunken or not. He has never been much into alcohol even back in the high school years, but the memories gives him a warm feeling when he remembers the countless, crazy fits of laughter and secrets they passed between friends. But it also makes him remember a person he lost around those times... A person that he held dear until the one truth told messed his mind too bad to be able to deal with it in the end.

Almost in shame, he sighs and keeps walking, nibbling the plumper part of his lips whilst he tries to get off the cringing feeling inside of him.

 

Hyukjae pulls his phone out of his pocket and unlocks the screen, seeing the bright lighted numbers telling him it’s already 02:28 in the morning. There’s no new text messages received, so he tucks it back into the pocket of his black blazer, but immediately when he raises his gaze to look in front of him, he notices something, or rather someone; someone stumbling already a bit too close to the platform edge where it’s only about mere tenths of centimeters between his feet and the one and half meters high fall to the sea anymore. The guy’s steps are steady for few seconds, but his whole posture tells Hyukjae that he doesn’t seem very lucid altogether.

His eyes roam along his figure, and even when he only sees the back of him, he can tell he’s not that old, maybe closer to his own age, and that he seems quite regular judging by his black cargo pants, sneakers that Hyukjae could use too, and the burgundy red hoodie which is still covering his head so he couldn’t tell more than that. But he also recognizes the can on his hand to be a one of soju, and he didn’t really even need that fact to tell that the guy was at least drunk. He’s not that tall either, and at most around the same height Hyukjae is, but his figure is slim and almost thin, when the clothes seem a tad too loose on him.

There are shivers running through his spine when he takes some cautious steps closer, and suddenly he hears distant humming, which slowly gets louder when he’s again few measures of the foot closer to him. He doesn’t even need to focus to discern some muffled chuckles that are most likely blended in with the soft sobs, but even that isn’t the thing that really has gotten his attention.

It’s the tone of his voice – the way his tongue slurs so strongly in the dialect of Mokpo, the softness, and the significant feeling of familiarity – that really catches his attention; that really makes him realize that he has heard that voice before. And it’s a voice he did listen for three and half years before the conversations faded away.

He could swear blindly that he isn’t mistaken.

However, his thoughts are cut short when he sees the male staggering again, arms raised up from his sides like he is trying to balance himself when he trips over his own feet, falling. But for Hyukjae’s utter relief, the guy falls on his left, landing on his butt almost two meters away from the dangerous edge where he would have ended up in the freezing sea.

Only now Hyukjae actually realizes he has been staring the male for god knows how long, and he swallows the nil saliva down his throat when some curse words escapes from the familiar person’s mouth. He is hanging his head low, his moves slow and irregular and fingers surprisingly still holding on the can of soju, and it seems he even managed not to spill it over.

The hood is still partly covering the young man’s face, but he can see the shades of dark brown hair settling down diagonally more over his left eye, and now being able to really see his face. He takes a note of the paler tone of the skin than he remembers it being still in high school, and the darker, a bit reddish circles around his eyes, the straight nose and the thin lips – all so familiar that it almost makes him question his own lucidity, which he is quite sure of.

When he clenches his fists into a ball and then spreads his fingers dispersed again, he realizes how cold and stiff they are, and how everything hits him with the coldness of the weather and everything when he’s suddenly pulled back into the present – the reality.

The wind has noticeably calmed down, and now the upcoming dawn is starting to disseminate the fog that’s so typical for the city.

He’s startled again when he feels eyes on him, and his own gaze focuses back on the face of the man of same age as his, sensing how his lips are already parting to actually say something out loud, until he finds his tongue tied inside his mouth. Those eyes, those warm chocolate orbs are staring deep into his – although the gaze of them isn’t really brought into focus – but still, it’s so piercing, at least inside his head.

And he has no idea how he should act when the slurred letters are calling for him.

“Hyuk...Hyukjae?”

Who would have thought that when he passes by the certain platform, he would be meeting the person he once abandoned – because three years ago he couldn’t set his mind with those intimidating thoughts of the unknown...?

 

 


	3. 2 | Not Alone

**02 | NOT ALONE**

* * *

 

 

An old ferry is creaking in the distance due to the wind that moves the waves and makes the ship swing along with it, when Hyukjae has already long forgotten the coldness when his mind is only trying to make some sense with the fact that it is really his classmate sitting on the ground with a can of soju on his hand.

It isn’t anything new to see anyone with alcohol – hell, he just came from a pub himself – but he isn’t the same as people who are at the breaking point when they have drank a bit too much; who are already drowning after the effects have started to fade, making their heads heavier and limbs number, but all he can see in Donghae is the holistic numbness that makes him think about the sea, and the waves that pour over you in the middle of the storm and leaves you hanging, alone, in the endless depths of the ocean.

“D-Donghae...?” he utters cautiously, although he doesn’t even trust in his own voice when Donghae is blankly staring back at him, the original hazel of them dull like a glass that has been forgotten back in the cupboard and has already started to collect dust over its fragile texture. Yet he can spot the cracks that are supposed to stay hidden; the wounds that have been entailed from the constant use and the indifferent treatment that have perished its delicate, innocent nature to the vanishing point where you could throw it away, yet you decide to keep it because deep inside you know it still means something to you.

Hyukjae can see the slight movement; the reaction which shows him that Donghae is still present even though his eyes look like they’re somewhere far away, maybe in a dream; hoping that the bleak, freezing wind and the can of spirits wouldn’t have been his only company night after night.

When he observes him closer, he can clearly see all the little, but evident changes in the brunette that have happened after high school. His face isn’t so round, nor are his features so boyish than they used to be. Hyukjae takes a note of how his cheeks have hollowed distinctly, how his eyes have dimmed and how he simply can’t see hints of the boy he thought he knew so well. There are dark and reddish circles around his eyes, and the lips that always looked so soft before are now a bit chapped and have lost their healthier color along the way. All those changes makes him realize that Donghae isn’t a child anymore, nor even a teenager, but an adult, young man, albeit those features have gone a bit too far along the way when his eyes are now looking like he could have been asleep eyes wide open; still stuck in the alternative universe he has built for himself.

When Hyukjae’s gaze lingers longer upon him, he could almost lose himself in those eyes that have already forgotten the divergences of a daydream and the real world. He isn’t sure, but in the situation’s all honesty, Donghae is merely there. It gives him the sense of wrong, a feeling that sinks deeper down his throat and causes cold sweat to form on his fingers. The lump is evidence enough for him to understand that this is something that he should actually take as a warning, as Donghae isn’t the same boy from the past anymore, but something different. Like this is all just the calm before the storm; a prelude that only gives you few notes for you to grab on, and to decide whether you want to listen the whole song, or to skip to another because the first impression it gives you is the feeling that this melody would only make you cry, and you aren’t sure if you’ll be ready to handle the aftermath.

It’s the contrary of the kind kid he remembers when they were sixteen and everything was fine. It makes him wonder if this is something that has always been lying underneath the surface, and if it’s actually him who has been too indifferent to notice that everything hasn’t been alright with Donghae since the beginning. That it’s his fault that Donghae is on the edge, and most likely has been already for a while and not just for tonight. That he is most likely an addict of sort today – a drug addict – and that buried beneath there could be something he has no idea of what has actually led Donghae to that. And hell, it scares the shit out of Hyukjae, because he has no idea what to say or do anymore. A wary breath escapes out of between his lips when he strokes his hand through his black strands in frustration, and he thinks it must be the alcohol why he feels a foreign burning feeling in the corners of his own eyes and inside his chest.

“W-what...what have you done to yourself?” he asks shakily, biting his lip after his voice has betrayed him.

Donghae tilts his head, and clearly a faked, sad grin lingers on his face for a moment, and the corner of his mouth twitches, probably from the lack of strength from trying so hard to fake it even when the negative emotions shows so clearly through the lie.

“Isn’t this the boy you remember...?” he mutters with a silent hiccup, gazing somewhere ahead of him; eyes hammered to the sea that is dark, but in Donghae’s mind, also soothing – yet looking at it the knot inside him gets thicker, and it’s not the first time when he only hopes to be a part of it, so he wouldn’t need to feel anything at all.

“T-this isn’t you!” Hyukjae bursts out without realizing, frustration gleaming from his glossy gaze. He’s still trying to reason Donghae for his wits, yet he already knows the ugly truth isn’t just an illusion, but the reality. “What happened to you...?”

For a while, the other young man stays silent, and Hyukjae already starts contemplating if Donghae isn’t on his senses enough to answer anymore — until the guy surprises him again; slowly slurring out an answer that isn’t really pleasing Hyukjae. It only makes the sinking feeling inside his stomach swell, and the sense of quilt growing stronger.

“The point is... That nothing has.”

The black haired grits his teeth and scoffs when he feels a sudden anger lifting its head. He only wants it to be just a dream where everything would change for better in the blink of an eye – but this isn’t a dream, and he’s afraid.

“S-stop with the nonsense...! You—,“ he starts, but he’s being cut off with Donghae’s imprecise muttering.

“You’re a bit late, Hyuk...” the brunette chuckles sorrowfully, now for once looking at the slightly older male again. “You’re late. You... Why would you care now?”

“Why would I not—“

“You left me when I told you that I love you,” Donghae continues, ignoring the other while he tries to get up. His moves are slow, but when he is finally standing, Hyukjae’s eyes are immediately seeing his thinner form through his loose clothes. Donghae’s pants are probably at least a size too big for him, and so is his t-shirt that can almost reach down on his thighs and even the worn-out hoodie looks way too large on him. His face is a bit too thin than would actually look good anymore and Hyukjae wonders how much weight he could be lacking compared to his height. His body swings when his feet aren’t too steady under him, and it makes the other restless because he unconsciously worries if Donghae would teeter to the point when he could fall down and hurt himself. He couldn’t help but blame himself when one of the reasons for Donghae to end up this way could be him.

“I still do,” the younger stammers due to the fact he’s drunk and high, and takes few uncertain steps closer to Hyukjae standing just few meters away from him anymore.

“N-no,” Hyukjae utters and shakes his head, taking the remaining steps between them and placing his hand on Donghae’s shoulder to prevent him from getting too close. “You don’t,” he states firmly, feeling the cold wind against his skin again, and it sways his hair along with it. “Donghae, I... I’m sorry I left you. I know apologizing won’t change anything, but I really do regret it,” he sighs, and he knows his voice is cracking again when he stares into the eyes which so clearly desire to be anywhere else than the reality that is his life. “I shouldn’t have, it was cowardly, I know.”

“Yeah. You shouldn't have.”

In the distance, a police car’s siren yells, and Donghae looks away, towards the city swimming in the neon lights and Hyukjae feels how cold the younger is; how the tips of his ears are burning in red and how his slim fingers are getting blueish because of the bad blood circulation.

“It was. I was so alone,” Donghae hisses quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Hae.”

A dry chuckle; “Yet it’s still you.”

“S-stop! I’m sorry.... I can’t change the past even if I’d want to,” Hyukjae says warily and examines the person under his hold again shaking from the stabbing coldness and the fact that anything he has taken has already started to lose its effect. “Y-you’re wasted. Let’s get you home, ‘kay?” he asks a bit uncertain, waiting for a reaction, but when it comes it surprises him — because Donghae stiffens and looks Hyukjae with eyes he can’t read at all.

“No,” he says without a breath. “N-not tonight. I don’t... I’m going....to look for another place.”

Hyukjae frowns; a puzzled look is growing up to his face and it annoys him that he just can’t figure out what’s really up on Donghae’s life. He doesn’t know, but at the same moment he understands that he barely remembers where Donghae lived in the first place. And that he never went over; they always hung around at Hyukjae’s, or just outside. Donghae always made excuses for him not to come – and only now he realizes it. He knows nothing about Donghae – and it makes him so mad. It’s like he has always been living in his own dream with thoughts where he just assumes that nothing is wrong, yet he doesn’t have the slightest idea of the reality.

For Donghae it has always been the reality; but now he’s the one trying to find an escape route – dreaming for better and hoping – until the hope has started to turn into desperation; when the wish for it all to be a dream has gotten so heavy that he haven’t cared about the method as long as it happens. And now, Hyukjae wishes that he could have seen it sooner; that instead of the delusion of everything being just fine, he could have been able to discern the reality through the dream; the fact that for Donghae it has never been alright. That behind the smiles there has always been something definitely wrong. He tries to fight against it, but in the end he gives in when he sees the emptiness in Donghae’s eyes; the soundless plead for help.

“You,” he starts and frees his other hand from the brunette’s shoulder, although his other hand is actually tightening its grip around his right arm. “You're coming with me. I can’t leave you here when you’re like this.”

“But—“

“Just for tonight, okay? Just till your head clears a bit.”

 

 

 

 

Three quarters of an hour later, Hyukjae is already exhausted and ready to throw in the sponge when he has finally managed to get them into his apartment and Donghae into his bed.

He’s being honest, when he thinks that it wasn’t as easy as he thought it would be. Donghae was, in all its simplicity, a pain in the ass when he tried to get him in, take his outer pieces of clothes off, and lead him into his bedroom where he could be able to sleep it all off. Yet the younger had tried everything to distract Hyukjae and delay it from happening; talking nonsense, asking questions Hyukjae didn’t know how to answer, or just being touchy and irregular, stumbling on his feet while the black haired had tried so hard to shepherd his old friend.

He sits on one of the seats around his tiny kitchen table, staring blankly out of his window, until he ruffs his hair and tries to get his thoughts in order again. Nowhere to be found was the old Donghae; the sweet, kind and easy-to-be-with boy, who now seemed to be hitting Hyukjae and the ordinary wheel of his life with the strenght of a tornado; scattering the pieces of his peace around and spreading it all over the map in a mere hour after he found him from the platform. Hyukjae had left him three years ago, mind filled with fear and uncertainty about how things would have become if he’d let them grow. He had thought that he would most likely never see Donghae again; Mokpo wasn’t such a small city anyway, so it could have been even quite likely. However, Donghae had caught him and returned into his life with the power of thunder, loud and clear, striking like lighting on Hyukjae and definitely leaving a mark.

The thought have been to help Donghae just over the night; to give him a place to stay because he couldn’t go home, albeit Hyukjae is already contemplating if he'd be able to let Donghae go so easily when the new day would rise. When he brought him here, he knew the truth was probably worse than it looked to the outside. With the power of the substance the brunette is most likely trying to escape something bigger deeper inside; looking for a way out when every time it was most likely the same dead-end. Whether it was the reality and the real problems of it, or getting high only to fall again, he would suffer either way. No one, seriously, no one, would ever be satisfied on that road. The drugs would cover the pain for as long as the effect would last, but after that, it would be another freefall again; hurting yourself again and again, without knowing how to stop, or actually wanting to stop – because at least the delusion would let you free for a short moment.

He had found a little mini-grip bag from the pocket of Donghae’s pants, and he had immediately taken it into his own custody. The blue and yellow pills had gotten a shiver running along his spine just by glancing at them, making him gulp and brush his hair backwards in frustration; afraid of the truth that has been hidden in the shadows of the different colored pills. More than he is actually afraid of Donghae, he is afraid of the pills that have taken control over him to the point where the other doesn’t have the slightest idea what he’s even doing anymore, because he couldn’t foresee the leverages it has over him. But the thing that makes him dread the most is the truth behind the using; the reason why Donghae is doing this and what has led him to the breaking point where he had thought about it in the first place. Has it been a conscious choice, or a just a train of dominoes where one thing has led to another?

What was the reason for Donghae to seek for such a way to escape?

 

Hyukjae is tired and he has no idea what the time is when he decides to go check on the young man sleeping in his room for once before going to sleep too. He stands up with exhausted, lousy moves, clenching his fist around the bag on his hand when he differs to the kitchen on his way; to hide the bag in a locked box. He isn’t exactly sure why he’s doing so – since he doesn’t even know exactly what those are – but he has a feeling that he has to hide them just in case.

The male puts them in, locks the box and takes the little key to tuck it into his pocket. However, he stays where he is and stares at the box for a minute, a deep frown on his face, before he leaves for his bedroom. In the dark hallway, that seems like a never-ending tunnel in the middle of the night, the constant silence and the distant sounds of the city with its honking cabs and partying people outside doesn’t really feel comforting at all. When his fingers clasp on the handle of the sliding door, he takes one haste breath before opening it even when he knows that Donghae has passed out a long time ago already. It’s so absurd to find the teenager from his past, now grown up, sleeping soundlessly on the wide and stocky mattress that acts as his bed on the parquet.

Without really taking a note of it, he has already sat down on the floor, on the left side where Donghae sleeps; just to watch and wonder. Just by looking at him there’s nothing really suspicious about his essence except from the strong smell of alcohol, sweat, and the peaked looking face. He’s just a man in his early twenties like him. Although even when the younger is asleep, he can discern the pain that boils inside of him, and because of that Hyukjae is lost. Yet Donghae is probably even more than him.

“Why are you doing this to yourself...?” he finds himself asking silently out into the thin air, eyes still closely observing the man who still has his pants and t-shirt on because Hyukjae didn’t have the courage to really undress him.

When Donghae stirs on his sleep, Hyukjae’s breathing hitches, but it soon turns back into a deep frown when the look on the brunette’s face gets anguished and he even shakes slightly. He is sure it could be just a symptom from the substances, but when he keeps staring longer, it seems more like a nightmare. Donghae keeps moving for a short moment, and when it finally ends, a quivering sigh leaves from Hyukjae’s lips, and he decides to grab the cover and pull it up to the male’s neck.

However, something happens to catch his attention before he is able to lean back on his seat. His fingers are already feeling sweaty and uncertain when he brings them to raise the object from between the collar of Donghae’s shirt and his collar bones. It’s a tiny, square piece of black plastic added into a necklace. He narrows his eyes to bring his eyesight into focus in the darkness of the night, only to end up feeling utterly confused when he sees what it really is. He glances at the young male just inches under him, fingering the piece around until he lets it go and sits back where he started. Flabbergasted, he drowns his fingers into his own raven black hair, nibbling his lips in thought. He finds himself even more curious, yet somehow very impatient to find some answers. Why would anyone use a memory card as a piece of an accessories? Why is he having a card with so much storage space on his neck? It didn’t even fit with the silver color of the necklace itself.

Hyukjae leans against the wall behind him, eyes still hammered to the figure sleeping inside his apartment, his room, on his bed and in his bedclothes. Even with the overbearing tiredness he finds himself growing even more curious about the brunet. In the silence of the room, with only Donghae's slightly erratic snuffles, he finally closes his eyes before letting the sleepiness take over him too. He knows that all these thoughts would bother him even in his sleep when he mutters quietly; “What the hell are you hiding from, Hae? What are you running away...? ”

 

 


	4. 3 | As You Go

**03 | AS YOU GO**

* * *

 

 

Hyukjae starts to stir from his gauzy slumber when he hears rustling noises in the distance and the aching on his neck has started to be a bit too much.

With a sleepy groan he raises his head, but remains keeping his eyes shut because the rising sun on the other side of the window hurts and makes it hard to get used to the light after the long hours of mere darkness. He doesn’t really want to get up from his uncomfortable position when he knows he would feel the aching all over him if he’d do that, but when he focuses his attention back to the noise, he forces his eyes open to turn his gaze towards the opened sliding door. At first, he even wonders what he’s actually been thinking by sleeping on the floor when there’s a mattress right in front of him, when he remembers that he’s not exactly alone in there.

While running his hand through his messy hair, he notices the light gleaming from under the bathroom’s door and proceeds to stand up onto his stiff feet. Hyukjae leans against the wall behind his back that feels way too cold against his bare arms, staring at the door in a sleepy daze at the same time when he recognizes the noise to be from the water running down to the sink. The man takes a glance of his wristwatch, ensuring his thoughts about it being somewhere between nine and ten in the morning deducing by the fact that the sun is shining directly into his bedroom from the same place it always does around that same time every day.

Hyukjae might seem calm, but the events from the pub till the point of watching Donghae sleeping on his bed seems to be running in circles inside his head, making it hard to grasp on anything coherent. And he isn’t sure what to do.

The smell of alcohol is still lingering in the room, reminding him about the other man’s state again. Yet that’s not the only thing he can smell, when the fading and delicate scent of obviously Donghae’s cologne can’t leave him alone either. All the smells, the noises, and the mere knowledge that it’s really Donghae there in his apartment feels so foreign. It doesn’t give him the sense of familiarity at all, because now he actually admits that he doesn’t know the brunet to begin with. He might know bits and pieces from here and there, but it doesn’t change the fact that he has been ignoring all the signs of something being seriously wrong all the way till this day.

The sound of water flowing has disappeared, but he can soon catch the sounds of heaving, and Hyukjae forces himself to walk to the bathroom door even when the certain noise always happens to make him feel nauseous too. He raises his hand, touching the door with the back of his hand with the intention to knock on it, but at first he needs to gather up some courage to do so; because he still has no idea what’s going to happen after that. He’s afraid of all the things the man behind the door would unfold, and Hyukjae isn’t so sure if he’s ready for all the things opening it would bring with. And still, in the back of his mind he knows that there’s no way going back anymore, and that he’s already in too deep in the turmoil of his mind for being able to abandon his ex-best friend for the second time. The shame and regret of doing such a hurtful thing back in the past is already chained to him, not giving him any options for backing out at this point.

He clears his throat before he taps his knuckles against the door twice, listening to the sudden lack of noises at the same time when he unconsciously holds his breath while waiting.

“Donghae... A-are you okay there?” he asks with clear uncertainty, biting his lower lip. He doesn’t hear anything for a minute except from the slightly bold breaths he’s able to discern.

Suddenly the toilet is being flushed and the cover obviously put down, but Donghae doesn’t say a thing. In Hyukjae it causes an uneasy feeling of not knowing anything about what’s going on inside the male’s head. When the silence lasts for even more minutes, he starts to get frustrated and a little bit of angry when Donghae obviously doesn’t want to unveil anything. Yet, he immediately regrets of almost losing his patience when he hears the attempts of the subdued, exhausted sobs. He swallows, turning around and leaning his back against the door with a vague sigh.

“Please...” he starts, “I didn’t... I’m not... I won’t kick you out of my life again like that, if you...” Hyukjae grits his teeth, getting frustrated with his own mental vacillation, but he’s unable to continue when Donghae’s trembling, shameful voice whimpers from the other side.

“I’m sorry.”

Hyukjae loses his train of thoughts for a minute, dark eyes trying to seek for an answer from the cream colored walls on the opposite side of the hallway. He desperately tries to grasp onto the right words, not wanting to say anything that would hurt the fragile male again.

“No—Donghae—don’t,” he grumbles, contemplating if Donghae does remember all the things he said some hours prior in the night. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I did.”

The words settle between them like dust particles wafting in the warm rays of the morning sun; almost transparent, but when you catch the right angle, you can see them all. Hyukjae knows that he doesn’t really want to acknowledge the magnitude of his own cowardliness and what he has caused with it. His throat is literally burning when he thinks back to the last few weeks of high school before their graduating, remembering the times when he stole brief glances of his best friend sitting alone on one of the school benches, eyes dull and sad and the usual toothy smile of his lips lost somewhere along the lived months.

He knows he should have done otherwise. He should have stayed beside him despite all the fear he felt, because Donghae himself had said that ‘—but it’s enough to just remain being friends with you. I just wanted to get it off my chest. Just staying friends is more than enough’. But he was a teenager lost in the middle of trying to find the right in the different kinds of wrongs, thinking that he had to choose. He did, and now he does nothing but regret the decision he made.

“Donghae... Please come out,” he pleads, trying to figure out what he should actually say. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. And we can talk – if you want. I just... Just please come out.”

When he stares straight out of the window of the room he can see through the doorway, everything seems so out of place; the sun doesn’t fit and the upcoming spring doesn’t feel real when Donghae’s desperate tries to restrain his sobs are piercing to his ears, making the whole scene seem so utterly absurd.

But eventually, he hears the water flowing for few seconds before there’s another light noise when the lock on the door finally makes a sound of being unlocked. He steps out of the doors way, staring at it like it would suck him in the exact moment it’d open, before he decides that it would be better to let the younger man come out on his own terms.

“I-I’ll go make some tea,” he stutters, leaving the hallway to escape to his own little kitchen.

 

It takes about three minutes to heat the water with the kettle, and just when he’s about to place the two cups on his square kitchen table he sees Donghae appear behind the corner.

The dark brown hair of his is a bit messy, his shirt crumbled and loosely hanging around his torso. His hazel eyes are tired and the dark circles are evident around them, making a contrast with the redness. Hyukjae notices that his skin is actually tanned from the last summer, and that the paleness is coming from somewhere with totally different reasons than not gotten enough of it. Donghae doesn’t look Hyukjae in the eyes, looking like he’s trying to hide behind his longer fringe when he sits down at the table.

The black haired male places the other cup in front of him, a bag of tangerine flavored green tea put in it. He himself has a one flavored with strawberry, and the smooth mix of the both flavors in the air makes him slowly relax a bit. He gives Donghae a soft glance, when he notices him sniffing the steam coming upwards from the hot water.

“Y-you liked tangerine, right...?” he asks a bit cautiously, waiting for some reaction from the exhausted, yet still handsome looking face.

Donghae nibbles his chapped lips, glancing back at Hyukjae very cautiously, and only for a mere second before simply answering.

“Y-yeah...”

He keeps his gaze down while Hyukjae observes him, trying to make some sense to it all yet it feels impossible to connect all the dots. Donghae is something he once had a narrow hold of, but who managed to slip away because Hyukjae let him fall down when he should have tightened his grip instead. He tries to remember – so hard – to find some pieces he’s missing now. He’s sure there’s some, but that he has only been too naïve to perceive all of them before.

In the back of his mind, he goes back to the high school again, to a rainy day in October when he noticed something different on his best friend’s appearance. They met at the school gates, and even from the distance he had seen how Donghae had been walking with difficulties, and with a bruise and cut on his lip. He remembers how he had asked if he was okay, and what had happened. Donghae had answered with his typical, lopsided smile and said; “I fell on stairs and landed face first to the ground... You know what a klutz I am.”

But now, it doesn’t seem so normal to think all the new bruises all around his body week after week. He usually noticed first the ones on his face and hands, but the rest didn’t go unnoticed either because they had weekly soccer practices as long as it didn’t snow. And it makes Hyukjae think how stupid could someone be to not realize that something wasn’t right. How could he have even called himself a friend when he didn’t understand something like that even when the answer had been just under his nose?

Hyukjae grits his teeth in anger, blaming himself for everything he did and left undone. He doesn’t notice Donghae’s eyes on him when his owns have started to get blurry.

“I’m a mess, Hyukjae,” the brunet says suddenly, his low voice blazing through the air, leaving behind so many unanswered questions Hyukjae is both afraid and eager to unravel through. He’s staring through the window, and the black haired can almost see all the hundreds of locks around Donghae, in an attempt to protect himself from everything else that already isn’t hurting him.

It’s just a fast glance that Hyukjae gives to his tea cup, but when he lifts his dark almond eyes back to Donghae, he can already discern the heavy drops of water full of sorrow glimmering on his eyes.

He wouldn’t have thought that the mere sight could give him such a feeling of helplessness.

He clenches his fist that lies on top of the table, swallowing hard, but the burning in his throat doesn’t go away. Donghae is there in front of him, just a table length away, and it still feels more like a thousand miles could have been there between them. He is trying to hold back his tears, and Hyukjae can’t do else but stare, even when he would have wanted to do so much more.

And suddenly he realizes the amount of pain the younger has been carrying with him for this whole time. He remembers the faked smiles from high school, the times when he had asked how Donghae is doing, yet the boy had always told him that everything was fine at the same time when he had been holding back the same tears Donghae is holding back now. His friend has always been suffering, but he hadn’t said a single word to ask for help. Donghae had always remained silent even when he had been obviously hurt both physically and mentally; he had kept smiling even when there hadn’t been any strength to go on.

Yet he’s here, and he’s not holding back those tears anymore.

Hyukjae bites his lip, and he wants to do something to help, but he doesn’t know what he’s allowed to do. He brings his hand across the table, eyes full of guilt. But he only manages to touch Donghae’s hand just slightly before the brunet pulls his hand away. Hyukjae feels bad, so bad, although he kind of understands why the other wouldn’t trust him.

“Donghae... Please, talk to me. I know I hurt you, left you—but I’m here now, I—“

“I can’t,” Donghae whimpers, his body trembling from cold and anxiety, and probably something else.

“Donghae—“

“I can’t, Hyukjae. I can’t!”

“But you’re hurting!” he snaps in frustration, feeling how his own eyes have started to feel watery.

“I’ve always been hurting!” the younger suddenly screams, stumbling away from his seat, surprising Hyukjae.

“But—“

“You can’t help me! I can’t tell you,” Donghae sobs, hiding his face behind his palms, tugging on his fringe desperately. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Donghae—” the older tries, getting up from his seat too, in an attempt trying to do something.

“I can’t stay.”

“Why?” he asks, desperate to find some way to do just....anything.

“I have to go,” Donghae mutters, escaping from the kitchen, towards the hallway. He takes his hoodie from the racket, and starts putting his sneakers on when Hyukjae grasps on his wrist. Donghae flinches.

“I can’t let you go the second time,” the older says hastily, yet all the strength from his voice has disappeared somewhere along the way. “I didn’t mean to... I am so sorry.”

Donghae’s pupils go wider, and Hyukjae sees the sudden hint of fear; fear that comes from somewhere else than the fact that he’s touching him.

“L-let me go,” the younger says, voice wavering in frighten.

“Donghae?”

“Let me go!” he warns with a snarl, eyes gleaming with new tears, wrenching himself free from Hyukjae’s grip. “Please, let me go. I can’t talk to you.”

Hyukjae is entirely confused, not understanding all the messages the younger’s eyes are telling him. He knows that he shouldn’t let Donghae leave, but he can’t force him either – not when he has that look in his eyes; that look of so much pain and the sudden horror which Hyukjae just happened to ignite in him.

He lets his hand fall, and he watches how the brunet is taking his leave with his disheveled appearance. But before he disappears from his front door, Hyukjae takes a haste step, calling after him.

But Donghae is already gone.

 

 

 

 

Hyukjae has changed his working clothes into bit more comfortable ones, including jeans instead of his dress pants and a hoodie in place of his collared shirt and a blazer he has to use at work when he relaxes on his couch with a cup of coffee and some drama going on his TV, when the male feels his phone vibrating beside him on the couch, and he brings the device on top of his lap to open the screen with a feather-light swipe. He opens the message, smiling when he reads the text on it.

Guess who?

He feels a not so foreign fluttering inside his stomach when his doorbell rings just when he ends reading the message, already knowing who it is when he walks to open the door.

The opened door reveals a man slightly taller than Hyukjae, his black hair a little bit wet from having to walk in the chilly spring rain outside. The man smiles, grinning and raising an eyebrow towards the few years younger man who’s still just staring at him with a wide smile beaming on Hyukjae’s face.

“Well hi, aren’t you going to let me in at all?” the man asks, tilting his head slightly in question.

Hyukjae laughs shortly.

“You’re all wet.”

“I guess that’s because I came all the way here just to watch a movie with you.”

The younger tries to scowl, but he desperately fails on trying to hide his smile.

“Come in then,” he sighs, turning his back for the male he’s been seeing for few months till now. “But I’ll go get you a towel and some dry clothes because you’re taking a shower before you’re allowed to do anything else.”

Jinhyuk steps in, starting to take of his drenched trench jacket. It doesn’t take long before the younger returns with a towel.

“We’ve been dating barely for a month and you’re already bossing me around?” Jinhyuk mutters while taking the white towel from Hyukjae, who sends the man a short glare, nevertheless if his cheeks are slightly getting redder.

“Go shower, you idiot,” Hyukjae nags with a grin, pushing the man towards the bathroom onwards after he got his shoes off. The man laughs, leaving Hyukjae in his hallway, but not before planting a soft kiss on his cheek.

 

A little while later, when Hyukjae is seated beside the older man on his red couch, a movie playing on the screen and his shoulder lightly brushing the other man’s, his thoughts are elsewhere.

Although he is very fond of feeling that he’s able to touch someone he likes like this, he’s still slightly uncomfortable because it’s all so new to him. For years, he tried to deny the possibility that he could like the same gender too. And it almost feels like a miracle that he’s gotten to this point, where he’s able to smile and be himself, with a person he likes and makes him feel kind of special. There’s something he’s still so afraid of – yet his...his boyfriend understands that he doesn’t want to go too fast. But it also makes him dread...that what if he wouldn’t be enough? What if Jinhyuk would get tired of waiting him eventually?

Because he doesn’t want to make himself anxious over his new romantic relationship, he lets his mind drift off to a wholly different matter that has been bugging him since the day it happened...

It has been three days since Donghae left his apartment. And he can’t help it but find his mind sailing back to him over and over again. He can’t help but keep thinking what on earth the young man has been through, and what has gotten him into this... What could have caused all of this? Hyukjae finds himself constantly blaming himself for all the things the young boy had to go through all alone when he had been only too ignorant to let his best friend’s well-being slide through his fingers.

All the lies of falling, stumbling... Being clumsy...

All the bruises... The cuts...

The smiles which he used to cover the pain...

He has been thinking to the point his head aches and yet he isn’t sure what has been the real cause of Donghae’s misery through all those years. Who could have been hurting him like that...?

Why he never said a word...?

He can’t get rid of the image of Donghae’s pained eyes; the eyes that are hiding so many secrets he’s not strong enough to carry along.

He wonders if he would ever see him again.

Hyukjae doesn’t want to think the option that he might not.

“Hey...?”

Hyukjae wakes up from his intense thoughts the moment he hears the low voice catching his ears, and he turns to look at the man beside him, looking at him with a from.

“Huh?”

“You’ve been a bit absent-minded today. What’s wrong?” Jinhyuk asks, gently sliding his fingers through the younger’s silky, black hair. Hyukjae nibbles his plumper lower lip, looking at his lap.

“Oh—sorry... I just happened to meet an old high school friend and... He isn’t doing very well and I’m just...worried,” he sighs. “I’m sorry—I asked you to come and I’m like this...” he mumbles a bit cautiously, glancing at the man beside him under his fringe.

The man smiles softly before answering.

“It’s okay, silly. Just don’t worry too much, okay?”

“Alright...”

He notices how Jinhyuk is looking at him, and not too long after, he feels his warm breath tickling his skin before the man kisses him on the lips. It doesn’t last long, but it’s able to make Hyukjae blush feverishly again, and before it gets too intense the man pulls back and looks at the one he just kissed with furrowed eyebrows.

“Is he handsome?”

With raised eyebrows Hyukjae lifts his gaze up and down, before laughing amusedly.

“Are you jealous?”

Jinhyuk turns his gaze away, biting his lip furiously while the younger chuckles.

“No.”

 


End file.
